Sadly, there is no exciting news about the Irish Sea calming down enough to allow us safe passage to Dublin, which means that we have many more days of checking the forecast while still securely moored on the Leeds and Liverpool Canal near Burscough. Things could be much worse as this is a fine place to set up camp. We are moored in fennish market garden country: small, dyke encircled fields full of vegetables, broken by larger patches of perfectly mown green lawn. It seems that turf is a very profitable crop. In the distance we can see the hills around the western end of the Douglas Valley.  They are temptingly close but too far for daily strolls, instead we save them up for when we have all had enough of the towpath we are limited to locally. These longer walks on bluebell wooded slopes confirm our need for elevation; we will wait to see just how we will get on in the flat bogland of central Ireland.

The waiting game does bring benefits. We have done some work and have turned some away as the weather is not suited to cover making and when it does change we intend to be off as fast as we can get the mooring pins out of the ground.  In the meantime, we have had a list of 'must do' jobs accumulating over the last four years and now seems the moment to do some of them. Only some because we would have to be here for years to do them all. We have also finished our last piece of internal woodwork - with no more wood and the woodworking tools on permanent loan it seems apposite that the final piece is not just making good some earlier cock up; it is a writing table that doubles up as an easel and is easily attached to the sewing machine table.  Using the sewing machine as a base means that anyone using it gets the second best view from any window on the boat - for truly panoramic vision the wheelhouse has no competition.  It is a fine creative space and we both hope to spend many happy hours quietly sat there.

Derek has been in touch! He got battered about a bit making his way off the tidal River Ribble last week, and then had his weariness extended by having to drag his canoe round the seven padlocked locks that link the river to the Lancaster Canal.  The good news is that he could then relax with many miles of lock free paddling and has already made it to Lancaster. He concluded his message by saying that he was going to have a play in Morecambe Bay - which is easy to get to as the canal crosses the River Lune on a stone aqueduct just outside the city. I guess this means that at some point in the near future there will be a loon on the Lune! Not that there is anything that loony about Derek, after all he could easily point out that he is away, doing exactly what he wants, when he wants and where he wants; while we only move a few inches on the rare occasion that a boat passes, only to slide back to where we started - there is much to be said for traveling light and the gentle art of tramping.

Having written this, I watched a young man run past us. There wasn't much of him and to make his running even more worthwhile he was grasping dumbbells and had a loaded rucksack on his back.  All part of the rich towpath tapestry.